


Of Silence Ache

by Cowardly Lion (Catsmeow)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-14
Updated: 2009-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-04 10:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catsmeow/pseuds/Cowardly%20Lion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Far from home, Jack and Daniel make a decision about their future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Silence Ache

**Author's Note:**

> Written September 2007.

As soon as he noticed Jack's absence, Daniel slipped out after him. The sound of celebration grew fainter then faded out altogether as he headed up the hill closest to the village. There was a rocky spot near the top where no trees grew, providing the perfect overlook of the valley below. Jack liked to sit there and think, or maybe he just looked at the view. Either way, Daniel thought the long hike with the promise of seclusion at the end would suit Jack's mood.

Daniel rounded a curve in the narrow path and saw Jack just where he thought he'd be. The man was sitting a few yards above the path, using a large boulder as a backrest. His cloak was fastened loosely across his throat, the sides tossed back to leave his arms free, though he sat on the tail of it. Jack heard him coming, but didn't acknowledge him in any way, just kept his gaze out across the valley. Adjusting his own cloak, Daniel sat next to Jack, leaning back against the rock and mimicking his cross legged pose. Despite the late afternoon chill of early autumn, it was comfortable up here. The wind was light and rocks were warm from a day in the sun.

As he watched a handful of carrion birds riding the thermals in the center of the valley, Daniel considered the best way to approach the subject. The trick was getting Jack to discuss it, never an easy task and one which he frankly doubted he could accomplish. Really, the best he could hope for was to be able to present his thoughts without being interrupted. The wrong opening gambit and Jack would clam up or get angry or both. He mulled over and discarded several angles before settling on an approach that was both true and potentially flattering.

"You know," Daniel kept his voice low, not wanting to disturb the peaceful afternoon, "it is an honor."

Grimacing, Jack dropped his gaze to the ground in front of him. Idle hands combed through the grass until they latched onto a clover-like flower with pale pink petals. Nimble fingers pulled it out of the ground twisting the stem around. Methodically, he stripped the plant, littering the ground in front of him with a layer of fresh compost. The tips of his fingers turned green from the juices released in the destruction.

Daniel was about to try a different tack when Jack spoke.

"She's married." He picked through the floral detritus, eyes fixed firmly on the task.

"Hand-fasted."

Jack irritably waved away the murmured correction then pinched up some petals and flicked them away. "Whatever. The point is she already has a husband. How's he going to feel about this?"

"Honored," repeated Daniel. Inwardly he sighed at the mulish look on Jack's face. "These people venerate their elders. - "

"Oh, so I'm OLD now. Thanks." Jack said pissily.

Daniel steamrollered over the sarcasm. "- They appreciate wisdom, cunning and skill at any age, all of which you have. You're one of the best hunters we've got, which is remarkable considering you've been at it a comparatively short time while competing against men who've been steeped in the tradition since before they could walk."

Jack shifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug at the compliment, but Daniel knew that he was proud of his reputation.

"You've seen it before and never said anything. In fact, when the Travelers came through again last Fall you said it was too bad only one of them stayed for The Sharing."

A grunt was the only response.

"It's actually an effective response to the problem of a small population. Think about it." Errant fingers pushed non-existent glasses up his nose, a gesture he'd never shaken. "A custom that gives blanket permission to invite anyone, especially someone from outside of the group, to share your bed for one month during the Fall harvest. Sort of a modified version not only of polygamy, but of polyandry as well. Do you know how rare polyandry is?"

He knew he was slipping into lecture mode, but couldn't seem to help himself. Some things he could only share with Jack, and it had been so long since he'd let his fascination for the anthropological aspect of their situation take full rein. "It's an ingenious solution for maximizing a limited gene pool allowing for a greater dispersal of all available genetic material. Variety is crucial for survival. Isolation and inbreeding can genetically weaken a population to the point where it's unsustainable. Back in Papua New Guinea, for instance- "

"Oh, spare me the eugenics lecture," snapped Jack. "I'm not some damn lab specimen to be trotted out to improve the mixture."

"What? That's not what I said."

"Apparently," Jack groused, "I need to do my duty to the community."

"I'm not saying you should lie back and think of England," Daniel retorted. "I was just making some general-" He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Don't twist - "

They glared at each other. Daniel was the first to look away. Fiddling with the hem of his cloak, he counted by three's in his head in Abydonian. By the time he reached 99 he had regained his composure. Jack made no comment but reached out to gather more plants to destroy. Daniel did his counting exercise again in several of his favorite languages. Smoothing the edge of his cloak flat against his leg, he looked out over the valley. The carrion birds were gone. Either they had found a carcass or the thermal updrafts had dissipated. Small grey clouds scudded across the sky on the forefront of a freshening wind. It would probably rain before morning.

His gaze flicked back to his companion. The wind plucked fitfully at the brown and white striped feather that was woven into Jack's hair. The feather was from the tail of a giant eagle pierced by Daniel's arrow as it carried off a newborn lamb during their first spring in this place. Daniel had been proud of the accomplishment and pleased when Jack had kept the feather. Of course, back then their hair wasn't long enough to adopt the native style. Now, fine leather laces bound their hair, keeping it out of their eyes.

"She's half my age." Jack's hands lay still in his lap. The plant litter in front of him was a little thicker and included some blue petals as well.

Daniel nodded, adding "She's a good woman."

"I don't love her." He steepled his hands together.

"She's not asking you to."

"She's asking me to make love to her." His fingers interlocked, thumbs pushing against each other.

"In the hope of conceiving a child, yes."

"Do you have any idea what the infant mortality rate is?" Jack twisted to look directly at him, squinting in what looked like disapproval.

"Yes, I –"

"Or how likely it is a woman will die in childbirth?"

Considering his new profession, Daniel was perfectly aware of the statistics and Jack knew it. Daniel had managed to improve the odds, though he felt every loss keenly.

"Do you really think," continued Jack, "that I want to be responsible for that?"

"Things happen that aren't anyone's fault."

"A person can be responsible without being at fault."

With practiced ease they sidestepped delicately around the subject of Jack's dead son, performing the verbal equivalent of peripheral vision - a glancing look at something too overwhelming to view straight on.

"Surely some things must be worth the risk," he suggested quietly then dared to ask, "Would you really rather have nothing at all?"

"I don't know if I could take it, if…" Wincing, Jack halted.

So much was said in the empty spaces between words. Every conversation had holes, stillness, things unspoken. The empty space built layer by layer, shaping itself into subjects too painful to address directly. Subjects like Charlie.

"And maybe nothing will happen at all," shrugged Daniel, "except that those O'Neill genes get added into the mix here."

"How can you be so matter of fact about this?" Jack picked up a small rock and flung it out over the hillside, frustration evident in his every move.

Knowing Jack was getting wound up, Daniel kept his tone neutral, choosing his words carefully. "Because that's how it is for them. And since we live with them, are part of the community, that's how it should be for us as well."

Once more they lapsed into silence. The autumn sunset was a beautiful interplay of shades of orange and rose, but the lowering sun gave less warmth the closer it moved to the horizon. Daniel listened to the leaves rustle on the trees and watched the patterns the wind made as it swept through the trees below them. The leather of their trousers and the wool of their cloaks kept away any damp from the ground. After a time, though, the chill seeped into flesh. Shifting subtly to ease cramped muscles, Daniel tucked the edges of his cloak closer to keep in his body heat. His nose and fingers were cold. Jack, with his greater tolerance for cold, still had his cloak flipped back. They still had at least two hour's worth of light, but the temperature would drop long before full dark.

"Say I do this," Jack's voice startled him out of contemplation. "Say I accept. What would you be doing during the month that I'm with her?"

Jack curled his fingers into air quotes at the euphemistic 'with' - a gesture so evocative of the culture they would never see again that Daniel's heart ached with a homesickness he thought he'd long since gotten over.

"I'll mope around the house trying not to be jealous." He kept his tone light in a deliberate attempt to chase away the sudden melancholy.

"You'd be jealous of me for being with her?" Jack looked surprised and a little hurt. "You miss being with a woman that much?"

Daniel smiled fondly at him. "No, you big goof." He planted one hand on the ground behind Jack and leaned into his side. Their bent knees bumped against each other as they pressed flank to flank. "I'd be jealous of her for being with you." He pressed a chaste kiss against Jack's cheek. "You're all I want."

Looking relieved, Jack smiled, bringing his arm up to circle Daniel's waist inside the sheltering cloak. He frowned. "It's been a long time since I've made love to a woman." He sounded a little nervous.

Another oblique reference. Sometimes Daniel wondered if he should add "abstract" to the list of languages he spoke. Performance anxiety was something familiar to every man of every age across the universe. Daniel was afraid that saying it would make Jack self-conscious thereby bringing about the very thing Jack was worrying about. Short of offering to give references, how best to reassure his partner?

"Well, speaking as a scholar and local apothecary, I can assure you that nothing's changed since the last time you might have looked. The women here have all the same bits in all the same places." Daniel grinned. "It's like riding a bicycle - you never really forget what to do."

The dimple in Jack's cheek popped up as he suppressed a smile. "Like riding a bicycle, huh? So, what, I should wear white at night? Use hand signals before changing directions?"

Daniel bumped his shoulder into Jack's. "Try not to lose your balance going around curves at high speed."

"Yes, it would be embarrassing to fall off."

Jack's mouth flared with a wicked grin. Daniel snorted, which set both of them into a laughing fit. The sudden noise startled a flock of songbirds from a tree nearby which made the two men laugh even harder. Minutes later they were still chuckling and wiping their eyes. Eventually, they settled down, letting the quiet sounds of the forest wash over them once more.

Slouching back against the fading warmth of the rock, he rested one hand on Jack's thigh. His time with Jack had taught him the value of touch. The physical connection had become as necessary to Daniel as breathing. All the things they couldn't speak aloud were communicated in a tactile language known only to them. Daniel had said his piece, which was all he had hoped for when he had come after Jack. That Jack had actually listened was a bonus. Even better, Jack had discussed the situation which had surprised him. He was content with the outcome whatever Jack's decision might be. He was about to suggest they head back to the village when Jack spoke.

"Okay," Jack sighed. "I'll do it. But on one condition."

Jack was full of surprises today. Daniel honestly hadn't expected him to agree. Eyeing him warily, Daniel asked, "What's the condition?"

Voice low, Jack's gaze was unwavering. "That you accept every invitation to The Sharing that you get."

"Oh, if you have to suffer then I do too?" he joked.

Jack didn't smile. "I'm serious, Daniel. I know you've turned down several invitations over the last couple of harvests. You have to promise me."

"But...why?"

"Because you're too special not to spread your genes too. And," Jack hesitated and Daniel was surprised to see him blush. "it would...please me to see little Daniels running around the village. Partly because I would love your child as though it were my own. But also because I want you to know what it's like to be a father. You're missing out on that because of me. Because of being with me. And I don't...I don't want to deprive you of that."

Daniel felt his heart beat faster. He felt guilty for making Jack feel, however inadvertently, as though he was holding Daniel back. It was his choice to be with Jack, regardless of the consequences. While it was true that he sometimes wished for children, not once did he feel as though he had sacrificed anything for the relationship. What had Jack seen in his face, his eyes, that gave that impression?

"Jack, I don't – "

"Daniel, let me finish. God knows that there's no one better than me to tell you how…" pausing for a moment, Jack swallowed hard, "how painful fatherhood can be. But you were right before, when you said that it was better to try, better to have some happy memories, than to miss out entirely." He cupped Daniel's face in one calloused hand. "I don't want you to miss out."

If Jack of all people was willing to try again, how could Daniel say no?

"Okay," he agreed. "I promise."

Closing his eyes, Daniel leaned forward, touching their foreheads together. His chest felt tight with a flurry of emotions. The thought of fathering a child sent a flush of arousal through him. He kissed Jack hard and was met with an answering passion. They moved together in a desperate tangle of clutching hands, gasping breath and trembling limbs.

For the first time in a very long time, Daniel felt hope.

Finis


End file.
